Pieces of the Picture
by kopycat101
Summary: Dangan Ronpa drabbles/oneshots over people's relationships to one another. Maybe, just maybe, these bits and pieces of interactions and blooming bonds can create Pieces of the Picture. And with these, it's possible that we can experience Hope's Peak Academy as they have. (multiships/ rare pairs) (possible dr/sdr2/dr0/free time event spoilers) **updated weekly**
1. Hair and Friendliness

Summary: Dangan drabbles/oneshots over people's relationships to one another. Maybe, just maybe, these bits and pieces of interactions and blooming bonds can create Pieces of the Picture. And with these, it's possible that we can experience Hope's Peak Academy as they have. (multiships/ rare pairs) (dr/sdr2/dr0/free time event spoilers)

* * *

AN: So, I wanted to start a drabble/oneshot series that depicts various pairings. Because I'm curious as to why people get angry whenever others don't ship popular ships, when there's just so many characters and possible pairings to work with.

Also, I just **really** love shipping stuff.

I'll try to go as long as possible with updating this story weekly. Also, I mix a few of the English release spelling/titles with the original Japanese or Oren's LP version.

_Most of these oneshots/drabbles are during their school days/ before the days of Mutual Killing._

* * *

Touko Fukawa x Sayaka Maizono

(Fuyaka, Sayawa, Fukasaya, Fukazono)

Hair and Friendliness

* * *

It was P.E. class, and the weather was thankfully mild.

It was Monday, and many really weren't up for doing much after the dreadful weekend that made everything seemed swamped in rainwater. Of course, the extremely athletic and enthusiastic students of the class were up for running around the track. But they were clearly the minority on this day.

Many were detached and unwilling to do much of any physical activity, going off on their own or in small groups.

_Touko Fukawa_, of course, was staying in the corner and away from everyone as possible. Firstly, she was an _Ultimate Writer_, so she had no reason to partake in anything physical. There was also the primary fact that she **despised** interacting with others, because who would honestly want to interact with someone as disgusting and negative as **her**? But she also had another reason.

She was trying to do her best to hide the scars that riddled her legs. They weren't really scars—they were tally marks, made by her alternate personality, the infamous _Genocider Syo_. She **hated** seeing them, and she knew people would hate them ten thousand times worse than her. After all, they were the kill count of Japan's most well known serial killer.

Fukawa had done well so far, by mostly hanging back and trying to interact as little as possible with her classmates during P.E. This class was one of the very few in which her legs were completely bare. At least with the school uniform, the skirt would help cover the marks, and she could always wear high-socks or tights if they didn't

Of course, it seemed that today was not her day. Any day was not her day, but this one seemed particularly unlucky, despite the improvement in weather.

For reasons unknown to her—other than the obvious spiteful ones floating in her mind—_Sayaka Maizono_ was walking towards her. Sayaka Maizono, the _Ultimate Pop Star, _who was one of the most popular and well-liked girls in her class.

"How are you doing today, Fukawa-san?" Maizono asked pleasantly, with her usual practiced smile in place, one that melted hearts across the nation.

"W-Why would **you** want to know?" Fukawa asked spitefully, nervously chewing on her thumb. "You're just asking me that because it's expected from someone as **perfect** as you, isn't that right?"

"Oh, no! Not at all, Fukawa-san!" Maizono said quickly. Although she seemed a bit surprised and put-off, that didn't seem to deter the blue-hair girl, much less make her less cheerful.

"It's just that, well, it was raining an awful lot this past weekend. I just wanted to know if my classmates were all right or not! After all, colds aren't very pleasant!" she chirped with an eye-smile.

Fukawa's frowned deepened, as did the steeple of her fingers.

"Nn...I-I'm fine. Although, I'm just a part of the class, aren't I? It's not like my own health really matters in the end, does it?" Fukawa said snidely, with a somewhat pained expression on her face. "I-I'm just a part of the s-stupid class."

The Pop Star blinked, her eyes wide. "That's not true, Fukawa-san! I really think that you and your health matters!" Maizono insisted, with a concerned look that didn't seem faked.

Fukawa simply grumbled some very unkind things under her breath, and wrung her hands.

"Oh, and it's such nice weather out today! I think spending this time with a friend would be better than being in the corner, don't you think?" Maizono asked kindly.

Fukawa was about to interject with a scathing comment about Maizono's **friends**. That dumb bland boy, Naegi, was one of her friends. That big-busted, blimp headed girl, Asahina, was one of her friends. That frivolous and annoyingly loud materialistic model, Enoshima, was one of her friends.

And Fukawa, in no way, fit into a group that was considered as Sayaka Maizono's "friends". Who would want to be friends with someone as unpleasant as **her**, in the first place? Besides, Touko Fukawa did **not** need friends.

However, as if feeling the rising scathing comment that would be uttered from Fukawa's mouth, Maizono quickly blabbered on.

"And besides, the sun makes your hair look so pretty, so it'd be a crime if I didn't come over and compliment it!" Maizono chirped with usual her cute Star smile.

Fukawa merely gaped at the blue-haired girl. She made some odd squeaking sounds, and wrung her hands. After a bit of floundering about, she managed to utter a timid "E-Eh?".

"I mean, I always loved your braids…But, the sun makes them look so glossy and nice today! And not a hair's out of place in your braids either—it's like you're having a perfect hair day!" Maizono chirped kindly.

"Y-You're lying…I'm not…" Fukawa mumbled in vain, then made a very infuriated sound as she tried to find words to explain how utterly **wrong** Sayaka Maizono was.

First off, how in the **hell** did she get that she was having a 'perfect hair day'? Her bangs were still an utter, sloppy mess, strands poking and jabbing out every which-way. And secondly, this was all too sugar-coated to be true!

"It's true! Fukawa-san, you have such pretty hair!" Maizono exclaimed enthusiastically. At this, Fukawa turned a very odd shade of red, and stuttered incoherently, curling into herself.

She shouldn't be falling for the Pop Star's tricks, she just **shouldn't**! After all, everything Sayaka Maizono did was practiced. Everything was practiced and faked, until it molded together and seemed genuine. She knew that much. She'd heard enough and seen enough to know this.

But something seemed utterly **real** about what Maizono said. The girl herself never seemed to be one that would be cruel. She always seemed happy and truthful, even in an infuriating manner.

"Maybe…Some day, could I brush it out for you?" Maizono asked bashfully, for once not seeming like the perfect, spick-and-span idol that she always portrayed. At that moment, Sayaka Maizono seemed like a truly kind, normal girl.

A girl that was extending her friendliness over to someone like Touko Fukawa.

Fukawa ducked her head quickly, looking up through her bangs at the girl who was technically only one centimeter taller than her, but who seemed to be stories high.

Could she…really mean it?

"A-Ah, sorry! I must have went beyond the boundary!" Maizono apologized quickly, after the very long and awkward pause in which Touko seemed ready to morph into the dirt or completely explode at any second.

Maizono was all but ready to do her perfect, practiced Pop Star bow and bolt for it, when she heard something peculiar.

"Some day…that'd be nice."

"Eh?" Maizono asked, surprised at having heard Fukawa say anything that wasn't even remotely derogatory.

"W-What?! Were you eavesdropping? I was talking to myself!" Fukawa spit scathingly, then looked down at her fidgeting hands, her face pink.

"Some day…" she mumbled, loud enough for Maizono to definitely catch that time. Then, the girl adjusted her large glasses, and quickly skittered off to another vacant area in the open-field P.E. class.

She didn't miss the beaming smile of the young singing sensation; and the singer didn't miss the embarrassed grumbling of the authoress.

Yes…Some day, doing something as fun and close as brushing each other's hair… Would be something they'd both look forward too. Even if it took them a while to get to that point.


	2. By the Alley

**AN**: I wanted to get this rolling, so two chapters continuously to start off this collection of one-shots.

You'll note that I ship a lot of things. 175 of the possible 250+ pairings you could possibly make in the Dangan Ronpa games, actually. I get creative. And I can ship both popular and rarepairs easily.

And of course, Mukuro is just a walking spoilers, so DR spoilers in this chapter, because of that.

* * *

Mondo Owada x Mukuro Ikusaba

(Mukumondo, Ikuwada, Mondosaba)

By the Alley

(_pre-Hope's Peak_)

* * *

Another trip 'round the streets of the city with his gang. Maybe some minor vandalisms of a private property or a rich place full of stuck-up officials or something.

But always, **always**, they'll ride on their motorcycles and have a great time, showing how tough and free they were.

_Mondo Owada_ loved the wind through his pompadour-styled hair, the adrenaline, the purr of his bike... He'd been in this gang—**his** gang, the _Crazy Diamonds_—for years, but spent even longer on a bike.

It made sense. He was the _Ultimate Biker_. Got an invite to the famous Hope's Peak Academy for being a bike gang leader and everything. He obviously liked what he was doing, and was good at it.

But during this particular ride, he didn't think anything significant would happen. His gang did runs around the city constantly, as routine, with nothing more than the elation of riding their bikes and the loud noises that accompanied them.

That is, nothing significant happened until his group stopped to take a break in the entrance of an alley, cracking open drinks from a nearby convenience store.

Because at that time where they were lounging around and talking loudly to each other, a **girl** decided to exit the alley.

A really **pretty** girl.

A really pretty girl who had the body of a model, minus the stereotypical big boobs and shining smile.

Her face was serious and dangerous— blue eyes so cold and sharp that they looked gray instead of blue. Her hair was black and short, in something he could only describe as a bob cut that got shorter heading towards the back, bangs swept to the side of her head. She was wearing some military-style khakis and a tight t-shirt with some French-looking words on it, accompanied by a strange emblem and a wolf.

She barely blinked when she passed them, strolling with a quiet, deadly authority that made his stomach twist oddly. His face heated up slightly.

He'd never seen someone so comfortable walking through the dirty, loud streets of the city before. Someone who seemed to not be phased whatsoever by danger, or the darkness that hid between buildings.

Hell, not even any of the female members of his delinquent gang even held a candle to this girl. She had an aura about her that was way more intimidating than what **they** could muster.

And then the catcalls started.

While Mondo was in a stupor over the girl, his gang members decided to be funny and start catcalling her.

They called her hot, invited her over, made innuendos, and had the largest asshole bravado turned on full stop. They were loud. They were obnoxious. And with the pure number of them there, they would make most women be terrified and make a run for it.

At that time, Mondo snapped out of it, and barked at them to stop harassing the girl, who had only blinked and stared at them with her blank face.

"Oi! Doin' that shit too much is harassment—haven't I fuckin' told you that?! We had our fun with the first few comments, but you're just being fuckin' embarrassing, horny assholes!" he roared at them, his face obviously showing how pissed he was.

He had a man's code of honor that he held highly. It included never breaking a promise, never giving up, always being a man, and most importantly—no picking on the weak. And since Mondo Owada was a stereotypical tough-guy who held the usual view that women were weaker than men, well, women were just automatically considered weak to him.

So whenever his gang got up to that harassment bullshit, he'd only put up with first few seconds of it to let them get it out of their system before telling them to shut the fuck up and leave the females they picked on **alone**.

All the girl did was stare blankly at him during his tirade, slowly raising an eyebrow.

"Aw, c'mon boss! She's hot and looks pretty strong—Why don't ya ask her to join ya for a bit?" one of his more thickheaded lackeys snickered. This simply caused the gang leader to have his blush permanently on his face—not from anger like before, but from embarrassment.

More guys chimed in and encouraged him to go for it. Suddenly, the situation seemed more like a flustered older brother getting heartfelt encouragement from his younger brothers to go ask a girl out, than a bike gang leader with his gang.

"S-Shut up!" He yelped at them, as some elbowed him in the sides or tried pushing him forwards whilst laughing.

"You're Mondo Owada," a soft, deadpan voice stated, cutting through the obnoxious chatter from the group of gangster wannabees.

"Er, yeah," Mondo blurted awkwardly, taken aback that she finally spoke up after all that time.

She stared him down, and he said more boastfully, with fake bravado, "Yeah, I am. Got a problem?"

His gang hooted, smiling as they slapped his back, whilst still trying to look like an intimidating gang. Despite the fact that they looked ridiculous in their pompadours and soda cans in hand.

"No," she stated bluntly. She stared at him longer with her intense gaze, causing him to twitch and feel like he was an enemy spy that was in some type of interrogation for information.

After a bit, she seemed satisfied at his level of twitchiness and awkwardness, as she nodded at him. "See you at Hope's Peak," she said curtly, before turning on her boot-clad heel perfectly and striding away from The Crazy Diamonds.

The group stared at each other in confusion, before bursting in a loud buzz.

"Boss, that hot chick's goin' with you to Hope's Peak! Holy shit!"

"Whaddaya think her title is?"

"Yo, boss—you finally got a clear shot at gettin' a girl!"

"Yeah, you can totally do it!"

His gang talked enthusiastically, some slapping his back to show their belief in him. All Mondo could do was stare at the spot that the girl had been, frozen.

She was deadly, and serious. And he'd managed to make a shit impression before even reaching the school.

It was one thing to have assumptions and impressions from someone's supposed actions, but another thing **entirely** to actually experience them with your own eyes, after all.

"S-Shut it!" he snapped at them, mortified and trying to hide it. "Time to head back! We've stood here long enough!" he said in a loud, stern voice, turning to get back to his bike leaning up against the building.

Mondo didn't even know the girl's name.

Her name was _Mukuro Ikusaba_. She was the _Ultimate Soldier_. And when he first met her inside the school, he was awkward and gruff as hell with coming face-to-face with her again.

The stupid encouraging comments from his gang just didn't want to leave whenever he looked at her, either.

…He never wanted to hang out down by an alley again. Even though it was worth it.


	3. So Pretty

**AN**: I'm not exactly sure if I have a day in mind for these weekly updates. I'll figure that out as I go along.

This was a cross between a drabble and a oneshot since I love soudamiki so much WOOPS. Forgive my soft shipping heart... Well, at least welcome to the mind of a somewhat obsessed Souda or something idk just take it

_Spoilers for Tsumiki's and Souda's Free Time Events, if you never read/heard of them._ Some vague Chapter 2 stuff thrown in there too.

* * *

Kazuichi Souda x Mikan Tsumiki

(Soumiki, Soudamiki, Mikuichi, Dr Pepper)

So Pretty

(_School days/pre-Mutual Killing_)

* * *

She was so pretty, but she was a nervous, apologetic wreck.

He didn't understand why no one talked about how pretty she was, either. Sure, she had choppy, uneven hair. And she had legs that were un-proportional and thicker than average. And she always seemed to try to hide and sink to the floor, her posture crooked and a mess.

But she was still so pretty.

_Mikan Tsumiki_ really was a diamond in the rough. And it seemed only _Kazuichi Souda_ knew this, having come from less-than-desirable circumstances in his childhood himself.

He could see under the trembling mess of a girl, to see that she was pretty damn gorgeous. A heart-shaped face, a nice figure, beautifully lush hair…

She just had an overall kindness and softness that made her glow, especially when she smiled.

And he imagined that her figure was the reason _Hiyoko Saionji_ picked on her so damn much.

Saionji was always spiteful, rude, and a brat; she seemed to pick on **everyone**. Hell, he'd been picked on frequently by her too, because he was (not-so-)secretly a complete wreck and total loser. But she did so the most to Tsumiki, because the poor _Ultimate Nurse_ was already so abused and hysterical that she was an easy target.

And God, could he empathize with her. He tried to make friends, to have a better personality that would garner him little to no antagonism, and yet he still had people picking on him. Saionji, that little Yakuza Princess—surname Kuzuryuu, that's all he knew of her— and her older brother, plus Koizumi's scathing comments whenever he fucked up and she pointed out that he needed to be more responsible and be a man about things.

It was obvious that Tsumiki also tried really hard to have friends, too. Although, her concept of friendship was probably more fucked up and twisted than **his**.

But even when she burst into tears and apologized profusely— her eyes and nose red, her face twisted in a painful expression—she still looked great to him.

Especially whenever she tripped spectacularly and flashed her panties, but that's more hormones talking than anything, really. (_It's healthy to be hormonal when you're at the peak at your hormone shifting stage, _he'd imagine she'd say, as she was a Nurse and would know about a lot of medical things.)

Maybe if…

If only he were braver…If only he were more confident, then he could help her, somehow.

Because he knew how bad it is, getting bullied relentlessly. Getting abused. Getting treated like vermin.

And he hates himself for not comforting her.

…If only he could help her.

...

(She's still so pretty.)


	4. Invitation, Unlucky Shoe, and Hope

**AN**: I have a feeling that Tuesday could be the day I upload things, but I'm still debating if I should upload these randomly through the week or not.

Anyways, I entered a contest for my school's Writing Club. I submitted one of my fics, Of Trenched Wars -which had originally been a school assignment that I tailored to be a Hetalia fic. I re-tailored it to omit Hetalia, and turned it in, because I forgot about the deadline and that was the only decent non-fic thing I really had. I learned Thursday that I placed 2nd in Fiction, and I'm getting $30 as a prize. Hella.

Really vague SDR2/DR0 spoilers stuff when it comes to Hinata at the end of the chapter. Also, the story about Naegi getting admitted into Hope's Peak is canon, from extra promotional material.

* * *

Makoto Naegi x Hajime Hinata

(Hinaegi, Naeginata, ahoge bros, ahogecest)

Invitation, Unlucky Shoe, and Hope

(_pre-Hope's Peak_)

* * *

He felt like he was floating on air.

Somehow, despite all the bad luck he's had, he managed to get invited into _Hope's Peak Academy_.

**Him**. _Makoto Naegi_. Average in every way possible. Managed to get into **Hope's Peak**.

Sure, the circumstances that led up to getting his letter were terrible…

It had started from simply changing his route to go home, to getting used by his friends to get drinks, to injuring someone accidentally. Then it was him getting on a bus, somehow uncovering a jewel thief, being held hostage, witnessing an old man squaring off and beating the thief. The thief escaped, stealing a mailman's moped, and Naegi caused him to crash.

And, he had to stay hours in the police station afterwards for questioning on the incident. Whilst his family worried over him.

So he had terribly bad luck. And yet, it seemed like life had been trying to give him some bad luck for the overwhelming **good** luck at getting into Hope's Peak. By the rare chance of the lottery the private academy held, and getting a spot into the elite school out of every single student that was in the lottery. Getting the chance out of every high schooler in **Japan**.

He was so euphoric, he just decided to head out to one of the big multi-stores in his city, on a whim.

His euphoria seemed to shield him from any possible bad luck he could've encountered on his trip. Nothing happened of note. Not even a single piece of new merchandise for his favorite anime or a new album from his favorite singer was anywhere to tempt him into spending large amounts of his allowance. Not one rude person that Naegi was forced to stand near. And Naegi liked that.

He liked not having back luck.

He left the store, and that's when the euphoria faded just a bit.

He slammed into someone. Someone with a wide chest, who was definitely taller than him—although many people seemed to be taller than him.

Naegi fell, sprawled on the concrete. His stupid unlucky shoe—the same one that always seemed to fly off all the damn time—flew off his foot.

He peeked up, hoping he didn't piss off someone older and stronger than him.

In front of him was a tall boy with sharp golden eyes. He had dark brown spikey hair, an ahoge sticking up stubbornly. He had a broad chest, but his other features were average.

Actually, he seemed like an average high schooler as well, if not for the odd chest and height proportion. The guy looked like his senior.

Except he was clutching his jaw, looking kind of pissed. He glared down at the shorter boy, but still stuck out his hand down for him to grab.

Naegi apologized profusely as the older boy hauled him up. The boy bent down to grab Naegi's shoe—which he had said, whilst rubbing a spot on his jaw, whacked him in the face.

"Look, I won't blame you for running into me or anything. I mean, **you** were the one that ended up on the ground," the boy told Naegi logically. "However…I suggest you tie your shoe tighter next time," he added, brow furrowing, and Naegi felt like the boy's eyes were going to skewer him alive.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry—Here, I'll buy you an icepack," Naegi said nervously, as he darted back into the entrance of the towering store, heading to a section he knew sold icepacks. He turned his head back to see the older boy following him, and Naegi had to remind himself that the boy wouldn't beat him up. Maybe. Hopefully.

He just wanted something for his jaw, right?

**Please** let him be right, for once.

"I know it's not an excuse, but I was just so happy!" Naegi blurted out, causing the other boy to falter and screw his face up in confusion.

"I-I mean, I managed to get into a **great** school, and I didn't even expect it!" Naegi babbled. "And, I mean, it just came out of left field when I got a letter that said I was accepted. Only the best of the best go there, so I didn't think I'd manage to get a spot and—"

"Wait, hold on…First, you're babbling—" Naegi laughed nervously at the other boy's comment "—Secondly, which school?"

Naegi was surprised that the other boy was taking an interest. After all, one would think someone would be curt and not be curious whatsoever over the life story of someone who all but decked you in the face with their (unlucky, ungrateful, capricious) shoe.

"Oh! Um…Ah, it's kind of embarrassing, but…" Naegi fidgeted, fighting a smile. He failed, and gave a bright smile up at the taller boy. "I-I managed to get into Hope's Peak Academy!"

The boy's eyes widened. "No way," he blurted, disbelievingly.

"That's what **I** said when I got the letter!" Naegi said excitedly, having garnered the interest of the boy. "I mean, I didn't think my test scores or anything could be good enough for Hope's Peak—and I'm certainly not rich or anything. But…But I got in!"

"Holy shit," the boy breathed down at the tiny boy, eyes wide. Something seemed to click in his head, and his attitude seemed to shift.

"Then you'll be my _kohai_ at Hope's Peak Academy!" the taller boy said in realization. Naegi blinked, looking up at him, before his face split in a large smile.

"Oh, no **way**! You go to Hope's Peak?!" Naegi exclaimed, eyes wide and filled with stars.

"Yeah. It's great," the upperclassman grinned. He seemed to glow, as he rambled about the school. "It's such an honor to just be on the campus, much less go to school there. And being surrounded with so much talent and energy—It's something that seems too impossible for average people, but with hard work, you can certainly get in to experience it for yourself."

Naegi listened with rapt attention, nodding occasionally, his ahoge bobbing frequently with the older boy's. It's almost as if their peculiar strands of hair were doing an odd dance.

The older boy seemed to trail off, before they both looked over at where they were. They were in front of a small store that sold the icepacks that Naegi had wanted to find. Naegi quickly ducked in to buy one for the boy that was his **upperclassman**.

Again, the whole good and bad luck balance he had going on in his life was weird, and worked in the strangest ways.

He manages to get knocked down, his shoe flings up to smash into an older guy's face, and then suddenly they learn that they're both attending Hope's Peak and he's his senior.

What a great first meeting, huh?

Naegi handed the icepack over to the taller boy.

"Ah, sorry for rambling," the darker-haired boy said, as he gratefully took the icepack and put it on his jaw. "It's just…I've always looked up and worshiped Hope's Peak Academy. It's just such a great, hopeful school for the best, you know? It's been my dream to attend."

"No, no, I get it! It really is exciting to getting in, and it's like a weird dream I don't want to wake up from," Naegi agreed.

The two boys beamed at one another, both their hopes shining brightly over the subject of Hope's Peak.

"I'm Hinata. _Hajime Hinata_," the broad-chested boy—who Naegi finally knew the name of—said, holding out his hand.

"My name's Makoto Naegi," the short boy responded, taking Hinata's outstretched hand and shaking it.

They chatted with one another as they made a trip around the multi-store. Naegi didn't want to stop talking with Hinata, who had such a pull that it felt natural and comfortable to just keep talking with him. He didn't even mention that he'd made a trip through the place already.

Never once in their conversation did the subject of their titles come up.

For one, Naegi didn't think to bring his up since his was so insignificant, and was the title simply for those that won the Hope's Peak lottery. He simply assumed that Hinata had a title, but didn't want to share it, so as to be polite and not make him uncomfortable.

As for Hinata, he didn't **want** to bring his up. Especially with his precarious deal with the school. He didn't want to explain that he was simply taking the sub-course, but that this year he would enter the main class with a title of his own. He assumed that Naegi wasn't in the main class, and was simply taking the sub-course, and he didn't want to make the situation for either of them uncomfortable.

They both simply went home after their enthusiastic talk, their hopes shining brightly.

They looked forwards to their newest year at Hope's Peak Academy.


	5. Go Fish

**AN**: I skipped posting last week because I was busy graduating from High School. I had to do preparations and stuff, so whoops.

Anyways, a note on names here: _I seem to flip flop between how I refer to people, between first and last names_._ A lot._ It's been a problem since I was introduced to the Let's Play of Dangan Ronpa- -before any localization. It'll take me a while to set myself on one way or another.

Also, I'm going to compromise on Celestia. I'm going to refer to her as Celest, and have her only articulate a light accent in her speech. A midway on the Japanese and English versions.

* * *

Celestia Ludenberg x Nagito Komaeda

[celeskoma, komaceles]

Go Fish

(_School days/pre-Mutual Killing_)

* * *

"Do you have any sixes?" she asked lightly, eyes watching him calculatedly.

"Go Fish, Celest-san," the cheerful boy grinned.

_Celestia Ludenberg_ had decided to try her hand at playing Go Fish with the upperclassman _Ultimate Lucky Student_, _Nagito Komaeda_.

She decided to rope him into playing a few rounds of cards with him, to test his luck. He happily complied, saying that it was an honor to see her talent, and to be fodder for her hope.

Instantly, she liked this boy.

Celest can appreciate a submissive, helpful man, after all. She had made it a mission of hers to find any men that could possibly rise above D-rank, so she'd be very sharp about such things.

She ultimately decided to start them off with something easy to test the waters. A card game that literally anyone could play: Go Fish.

However, Komaeda was steadily kicking her ass.

She didn't know **how**. She managed to get into _Hope's Peak Academy_ with the title of _Ultimate Gambler_, so why the hell wasn't she winning like she normally did?!

Yes, luck played a large factor into winning at gambling, other than strategy. And she was born incredibly lucky when it came to games, cards, and just plain gambling.

However, it looked like Komaeda's luck was **greater**. This was the **third** game of Go Fish, after he sweeped her in the last two in ten minutes. This third game she was holding on longer, but he was still pushing her back into a corner.

If he was **this** lucky with just a stupidly simple game as Go Fish…Then how great would his luck be in a **real** game of cards…?

She didn't even want to find out, currently. She felt pissed— and she was gritting her teeth, trying to fight it down. She'd find out later, whenever she amassed more patience to sit down and play more cards with him.

You can only take Komaeda's presence in small doses, after all. His mannerisms—cheerfulness, whispy voice, stupid smile, and constant self-deprecation—weren't really so annoying one at a time for short times. But they sure as hell got annoying altogether for long periods.

**Especially** when she was losing so spectacularly.

She hung on just a bit longer, before, with a grin and a flourish, Komaeda ended the game. With another win.

A straight three out of three.

"Best…Four out of seven? Or how about six out of ten?" Komaeda suggested.

Celest merely grit her teeth, trying to give a pleasant smile that was obviously forced and painful.

"Oh no, it is fine. I have somezing I must do soon, and I do not vant to risk being late," she told him, straining to make her voice light and melodic.

"Ah! Alright then, Celest-san. I wouldn't want you to waste your time with me, and ruin your evening," Komaeda said, giving her a pleasant smile that was true and realistic, contrasting with Celest's stiff and fake one.

'Oh, but you already have, you shitty piece of microwaved soap,' Celest thought scathingly. She vowed that as soon as possible, she would microwave a piece of soap and then set it on fire. Then run it over with a golf cart.

That sounded nice.

"See you some ozer day, Komaeda-san. I expect a few matches of cards, vith much more difficult games than a zimple Go Fish," Celest said, poising herself perfectly as to not give anything away to the tall, lanky boy.

"Ah—then I suppose I shall see you later, Celest-san, if you really want to be in my presence some other day!" Komaeda said cheerily, waving at her as he began to go lumber off in hopes of finding some other interesting hopefuls to interact with.

Celest watched him leave, noting with satisfaction that he was bowled over by a sprinting _Aoi Asahina_, who didn't stop and simply yelled an apology over her shoulder.

The gambler smiled widely, and decided that she needed to buy her athletic classmate some of the donut flavors she was always raving about, as a reward for her wonderful trampling of Nagito Komaeda.

After all, his luck trampled over hers. It was time for karma and bad luck to get him back.


	6. Fortune and the Tofu Express Ship

**AN**: I've been a bit late on posting, so I present the first ever chapter set during the games/ Mutual Killing!

I've watched a play-through of the dubbed game, which was good despite people's nitpicking about it. I've picked up referring to most of the characters by first names more naturally, and even the nicknames some have.

_To clear something up in this chapter_: I'm pretty sure in most translations, Hagakure thinks that Togami has a softer side/ is a tsundere. And either he or Asahina exasperatedly say that Byakuya and Touko are kind of made for one another, with how difficult they both are. I ship everything, so I decided to give you all a double-serving of shipping.

_Spoilers of some of the survivors in the game, in the last paragraph._ You know, the usual.

Also, to the Guest reviewer: I'll get on that request. I have a soft spot for Naegi/Fukawa as well.

* * *

Yasuhiro Hagakure x Byakuya Togami

(Togahaga, Togakure, Hirogami)

Fortune and the Tofu Express Ship

(_Mutual Killing_)

* * *

The last case was something incredibly enjoyable for one _Byakuya Togami_.

After all, he made it more…interesting. What better way to know if _Touko Fukawa_ was telling the truth, than to lead circumstantial evidence pointing to her and make her secrets be revealed?

Although, _Kyoko Kirigiri_ just had to one-up him. Typical. She was such a mystery, that of **course** she could have an ace hidden in her sleeves.

However, that was all behind the _Ultimate Heir_. Right now, the group was currently busy with exploring the new floor that opened up. Just like previously, after they got the culprit right and the trial ended, a new floor of the school opened to the group of students. This time, it was the third floor that had become accessible.

Byakuya was blissfully taking his time examining the Music Room—which had a beautiful, rare model Grand Piano in the middle of the polished stage— when the door opened and in stepped someone idiotic and repulsive.

Surprisingly enough, it wasn't Fukawa— who had decided in her delusional fantasies that he **needed** her presence, and thus stalked him relentlessly.

Rather, it was _Yasuhiro Hagakure_, who had insisted that everyone call him '_Hiro'_. As if his nickname could mask his stupidity and cowardice. His age from being held back 3 years—absolutely pathetic a feat, really—certainly did not make him any wiser.

"Oh! Hey, Byakuya-chi!" the dreadlocked man greeted cheerfully.

"Hagakure," Byakuya answered with disinterest, trying to ignore the conman.

"So, that last trial had me thinkin'…" Hiro started, passing a finger under his nose.

"Well that's a surprise," said Byakuya bluntly.

Hiro seemed to have ignored him, or was simply not listening as he strained his brain to 'think'. Honestly, Byakuya felt a smidge of pity for the gray matter in the other student's noggin. It must not have been used much in its pitiful life.

"Do ya want your fortune told **now**, Byakuya-chi?" Hiro asked him, grinning. "I know you definitely said no last time, but I mean…'cuz Touko-chi and you were **really** involved with the last trial, and she seems super attached to you and stuff..."

"**Excuse** me?" Byakuya hissed as he glared at the other's stupidly stubble-filled face.

"I can tell you your love future—and see if you end up with Touko-chi or not, right? I've got 20% accuracy 100% of the time, remember? That's the tip top of clairvoyance in the fortune telling circuit!" Hiro said, grinning, as if he said the most brilliant thing in the world.

"For one, those odds are atrocious—" Byakuya started.

"Hey! Those are good odds! I'm the real deal, not like those other phony fortune tellers that just shuffle cards or make vague guesses!" Hiro insisted angrily, pointing a finger at Byakuya.

"**Two**," Byakuya spit angrily, peeved at being interrupted by such an imbecile, "I will **never** consider Fukawa worthy of **anything**, much less romanticism."

"You can be sure, though! For serious, man!" Hiro interjected, all but pleading with the blonde boy. "If there's any chance where you can make **sure**, than this is it!"

"No," said Byakuya blunted.

"**C'mon**! Most rich people **love** my fortunes!" Hiro wheedled. "I once got this company heiress so hooked with 'em that she gave me her entire fortune, Byakuya-chi! That's **gotta** tell how good I am with 'em!"

"It shows how good you are a conman," Byakuya growled.

"Wow, what a thoughtful thing to say," Hiro grinned, but then his face faltered once he thought over the implications. "Hey! For how important my predictions are, I give a fair price! It's not conning if people want 'em and pay for my services out of their volition!"

"This is no issue of money. I could fund your retirement if I so chose," Byakuya said hautingly. "It is your moronic ideas of I and that trash of a girl ever becoming… _close_."

Byakuya scrunched his face in disgust, and actually gave a shiver. A subservient girl that would do his bidding, that's fine enough. He could consider to take her in as a maid, a servant, even a mistress. But one as **vile** as her? Who has a **serial killer split personality**?

No. Never. Not in a millennia.

"What's the matter? You guys already **are** close. You're the only ones that can really stand each other," Hiro stated. "Plus, I ship it."

"You **what**?" Byakuya asked, his brow furrowed quizzically at hearing the odd term.

"Ship it. Y'know, 'cuz you both **do** make a good pair," Hiro said, smiling, a fist on his chest.

"Dear God…" Byakuya groaned in exasperation as he massaged his aching temples.

"C'mon, Byakuya-chi, you don't need to keep showing your harsh side. I know there's a softer part of you," said, grinning goofily. "And if you're **really** denying it so much—you and Touko-chi, the Tofu Express Ship—than just get your fortune read by me to let it rest once and for all!"

He **did** make a surprising amount of sense…

"_No, that's just him being a persuasive conman. Don't fall for his tricks. Give a vague agreement that should happen after an unspecified amount of time…_" Byakuya thought to himself. "_It's worked on various businessmen; it'll work with someone as simple as Hagakure._"

"Hmph. You're quite the pest," Togami said, teeth gritting. "Fine. I will get a fortune by you—"

Before he could finish, Hiro burst out cheering, heartily commending Byakuya for his life choices.

"**When**, and only when, **we both leave this school**. **That** is when I will buy a fortune reading from you," Byakuya finished, unable to fight the smirk from his face.

Really, only a moron like Hagakure would believe that there ever **was** a possibility of more than one coming out alive in this game, much less one where **both** of them could get out to seal the deal.

It was a perfect deal, and a perfect lie. Now the buffoon wouldn't pester him for a fortune, blinded by his visions of the amount of money he'd receive for a commissioned fortune.

"Whoohoo! It's a deal, Byakuya-chi! For serious!" Hiro cheered, practically glowing from how hard he was beaming. It was as if he was a Sun God of sorts— with his bright countenance, and shitty dreaded atrocity of a hairdo that mimicked a sunrise.

"Yes, yes. Now never speak of it again. I must go explore the other rooms of this floor," Byakuya drawled as he purposefully strode to the door to leave the _Ultimate Clairvoyant _behind in his futile celebrations.

Little did Byakuya know, that in the future—the near future, even, of about just one month—he would actually take up Hiro's offer of a fortune reading. And that his perfect deal—his perfectly crafted lie, that he'd known was **never** going to come to fruition— would actually come to pass.


	7. Bashfullness and the Book

**AN**: I love writing Fukawa, and I love writing Naegi. Writing them both together, and added the fact that I ship them, MADE THIS X4 THE FUN. It also explains why this is the longest chapter to date. Whoops.

This chapter was requested by Guest reviewer.

(Also, I forgot to add last chapter: _Togami x Hagakure is, surprisingly, a popular ship in Japan_. The more you know)

* * *

REQUESTED:

Touko Fukawa x Makoto Naegi

(Naegawa, Naefuka, Toukoto)

Bashfulness and the Book

(_School days/pre-Mutual Killing_)

* * *

_Touko Fukawa_ wasn't one for idling about. Whenever classes ended, she headed straight to the library or to her room at the dorms.

She knew people hated her presence, and she hated other people. So why stay where you're not wanted?

This particular fact didn't really bother her; that's just how things were, for as long as she could remember. And besides—she **enjoyed** solitude. It's what she grew up with. It's what calmed her after a long time of interaction with other disgusting people. It's what made her comfortable and gave her inspiration to write.

So naturally, she would be irked whenever her alone time was **squandered** from her without a warning.

She'd been minding her own business, sitting comfortably on her bed with a chapter of her newest project to revise, locked up in her dorm room per usual. Then her doorbell rang its annoying tone, and it ruined her precise revision—in the **middle** of a text-heavy page, no less. Smack dab on the center of the paragraph that had taken her the longest time to gain inspiration and write.

Touko let out a strangled growl, the grip on her chapter tightening. She should just ignore it. It was probably a stupid prank, anyway.

More likely than not, it was just **stupid** Leon with a **stupidly** typical trick. Like a bag of dog crap on fire, or something equally pseudo-punk.

She sat rigidly on her bed, hoping that nothing else would happen, and she could go back to re-reading her work. She stared down at her papers with a hard look in her eye, and wished that she'd been given the peace of the afternoon that she needed.

She had a book to write, manuscripts to send out to publishers, and fans to please. She didn't need interruptions. She didn't have **time** for interruptions.

However, her hopes weren't answered. After a full minute of silence—which Touko had spent glaring angrily down at her papers with a somewhat unfocused gaze—a knock came at the door.

It was any normal knock, if a bit on the hesitant side. That ruled out most troublemakers and extreme annoyances; they'd bang on the door or ring her bell multiple times.

Again, came the knocking—but even more softly and hesitantly than before. That certainly narrowed the list—not many of her classmates were so…meek, when it came to addressing their thoughts. And a handful of others were polite—but they wouldn't knock like **this**, per se.

That narrowed it down to either _Chihiro Fujisaki_ or _Makoto Naegi_. Both were annoying with their 'cuteness' and gentleness, but they weren't as annoying as most. Other than her White Knight Byakuya, they were classmates she wouldn't mind, if they so happened to knock on her door.

After all, they were smaller and more pathetic than her—with the bonus of being softhearted. That means less of a chance for them to make fun of her. That means they were actually tolerable compared to the average scum.

Touko sighed, her resolve to stay where she was slipping away like her attention span for her chapter. She slowly put the chapter on her bed, and stared at the door of her room—as if her thoughts could force the person at the door to reveal who they were.

After a few seconds, the intercom buzzer for her doorbell crackled to life.

"_Ah…Fukawa-san, are you there…? I'm sorry if you are, and I'm bothering you. Um, can I ask you something?"_

She startled slightly. It was Naegi. There was no mistaking the hesitancy and kindness in the voice, nor the bland normality.

She got up from her bed, glad that she had on a very presentable (not to mention comfortable) long sleeve button-up, along with her old uniform skirt that was floor-length and hid her scars for so many years. She had refrained from putting on her pajama set earlier, for fear that it would make her attention span shorter and make her sleepier whilst she was editing her work.

She slipped on her slip-on shoes, and padded to her door. She gripped the knob, her stomach tightening, and she steeled herself for this possible 'question' that Naegi had in mind.

For a wonderfully horrible moment, the thought of Naegi asking her out appeared in her mind. She squashed that thought—along with the butterflies it produced in her stomach—and stared down at the knob in her white-knuckled grip.

No, that wouldn't happen. "_Stupid mind, making untrue fantasies at a time like this_," she whispered harshly to herself.

If he were to do something like that, it would be a prank.

…Then again, he doesn't seem the type that would do such a thing, even on someone as hated as herself. He was too…soft.

That realization gave her the confidence and energy to twist the knob and open the door. However, the energy was a bit too much, as she swung the door fully open, when she'd only planned to peak outside.

Surprisingly enough, the short boy was still there on the other side of the doorframe. Touko had half-considered that he'd leave, with how long she took to answer the door. He could have easily considered that she was not in her room, and left.

And yet, he was there. He'd actually been patient enough to wait, hopeful that she was in her room.

The boy himself was surprised when the door opened. For one, that Fukawa was actually where he'd hope she would be. Two, that she swung open her door so forcefully, when everything about her would point to her only peeking out the door.

And third—that Fukawa was…Dressed so **nice**. What she was wearing seemed too nice to just wear casually. Unless she usually dressed professionally, because of her being a renound author and all.

Either way, Makoto thought she looked nice. He'd never seen her with anything outside of a long-skirted school uniform. She looked…well, more **shapely** than he ever noticed.

Naegi just stood there, seemingly flabbergasted. His mouth was gaping, and he'd quickly turned red.

A small part of Touko felt like floating, because she'd gotten such a reaction from him, even if she'd never planned it or thought it even possible. Then she embarrassingly berated that part in her mind.

"Y…You w-wanted something?" she asked, tendrils of embarrassment starting to creep up on her.

Naegi opened his mouth various times, trying to re-iterate why he'd been looking for her, with little success. He'd gone through a good number of stumbles and literacy fillers, before he managed to get out something intelligible.

"Er, yeah. I wanted to ask you something," he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. With the other, he held out a book towards her. "I wanted to ask if you wanted this book?"

He was very pink, and seemed very uncertain. The sight before her made Touko's heart flutter, and her breath caught in her throat.

It was like a dream. She'd dreamed that a boy would be embarrassed and sweet at her door. That a boy would look so adorable, and then present her with something thoughtful, like a book or a card. It was like a type of scenario that she wrote about in her romance novels, but tailored more towards her own hopes and interests.

Her face felt hot, and she knew she was blushing as much as he was. The silence seemed to stretch out, and the moment seemed like it was eternal.

Then—seemingly unable to take the awkward and heavy silence—the boy with the ahoge started to ramble.

"I, ah, won it in a raffle—at the school store. The raffle they'd announced a week back," he started nervously, eyes darting everywhere but her.

"T-They had b-books as p-prizes?" she asked suddenly. That new fact made her want to try her hand at the raffle. She'd never entered many raffles. She always lost, and they made her feel worse than **before** she'd entered them.

"Er, yeah," he answered, looking away from her bashfully. "I-I'm not much of a reader, and I usually just read the really popular stuff from the young adults section that gets recommended everywhere. So, I thought—well, **I** wouldn't read it, so I should give it to someone else, so that they can enjoy it."

"Then I thought: Fukawa likes books. She'd probably read and enjoy it. Maybe she'd like another to go in her collection. It'd be in good hands, if I gave it to her…And, yeah," Naegi said, finishing his rambling lamely. He nervously shifted his gaze away from the interesting hallway carpet the next door down, back to see Fukawa's reaction.

She was staring wide-eyed, her mouth gaping, her face pink, with a fist on her chest. Makoto honestly thought that she belonged on the cover of a book. She looked cute like that, even.

"Um…Of course, you don't **have** to take it…" he said, laughing nervously, doubt filling his stomach.

A heavy moment passed, before Fukawa quickly snatched the book he held out. He instantly felt lighter, and he finally let the wary arm that had held up the book the entire time, to fall by his side.

Touko held the book closely to her chest, head ducked, mumbling under her breath about how stupid Naegi was. She looked past her unruly bangs to see that the boy was beaming at her brightly, undeterred by the rude things she'd been muttering.

"T-t-thank y-you," she said hastily, her hand on her doorknob. She backed a step, book still clutched to her heart, and closed the door quickly on Naegi's radiant, fulfilled face.

She quickly locked the door, then leant on the wall next to the door, a happy sigh leaving her mouth. She walked to her bed with light, shaky steps, plopping herself on her back on the mattress.

She held the book to her heart with both her hands, oddly and deliriously joyous. Her heart and stomach were fluttering like crazy, and she couldn't help the loony grin spreading across her lips.

She wanted to stop. She was being stupid. She was imagining things. Naegi hung out with prettier girls. He didn't think she was pretty, and she was just hoping he'd react with a sign of attraction. Nothing romantic **ever** happened to her. This was all a dream.

"But this book feels real enough," she muttered, soft smile still on her face despite her inner misgivings.

She lifted the book to take a proper look at its cover. At the bottom, an accolade was printed saying it was a "_wonderfully realistic romance_". The cover image was of a dark-haired young woman's portrait staring intently to the left, with a young man's portrait being back-to-back with hers, staring intently at the right.

The title was _Blossoming Beginnings_.

It seemed so cliché, that Touko laughed. Of **course** it occurred to him to give it to her. It was an atypical romance novel.

She sighed, laying the book on her chest again.

She had a distinct feeling that this book was going to become one of her most prized ones.


	8. Youthful Spirits

**AN**: I'm really glad that the last chapter garnered such a positive response! I seemed to have put more effort in their chapter, so I'm glad that it showed!

This is a fairly short, but quickly uploaded chapter. The reviews, and the fact that I got my drivers permit, made me pretty happy and energetic to upload something. And who better to center a chapter around than two very energetic athletes? Alas, the ending is pretty terrible, but I lost steam towards the end.

For some reviewer responses:

_Yuki-Rin: Your reviews are always hilarious, and greatly appreciated, my old friend._

_anonime: Thank you! And I'll make sure to work on the Naegi/Junko you requested!_

_cvi: Aw, thank you! I always seem to make Fukawa or Naegi chapters fun and fluffy, haha_

* * *

Aoi Asahina x Nekomaru Nidai

(Nidaoi, AsaNidai, Nidasa)

Youthful Spirits

(_School days/pre-Mutual Killing_)

* * *

_Aoi Asahina, _the _Ultimate Swimmer_, only spent about a week getting used to school life at the famous _Hope's Peak Academy_.

After that, she was hyperactive and ready to play some sports, like in her previous school.

The weird thing is that Hope's Peak didn't seem to have many sports teams. One would think that they would, with how much talent the school's pupils had. But then again, one also had to note that any new class could have little to zero sports talent, and make all the teams become short on people.

But Aoi Asahina didn't fret. She was a little disappointed that one of the best schools in the world couldn't be able to keep up with her with her energy for sports. But then she remembered that the school had a gorgeous competitive indoor pool, a track circuit, a large weights room, a practice dojo, a Gym, and various fields that could be able to house various Ultimate students' self-practices.

She decided to burn off her energy first by sprinting towards one of the large fields.

There, she met probably one of the coolest people ever. The _Ultimate Coach_, who was responsible for creating the best teams in Japan from the most hopeless bunches of losers. Every underdog or sports fan's man, _Nekomaru Nidai_.

She screeched to a halt in front of him, feet dug into the ground, creating a long trail in the field.

"Oh my god! You're Nekomaru Nidai!" she yelled in awe, pointing out the obvious.

He looked down at her tiny form, laughing loudly.

"Gahaha! Yes, I am!" he told her, grinning. "And by your athleticism, I see that you are a sports student attending here."

"Yeah! I'm Aoi Asahina, Ultimate Swimmer! My friends call me Hina!" Hina grinned largely, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Ah, the Ultimate Swimmer! Yes, you do well with both solo events and team events, I'd noticed," Nidai said, nodding his head whilst crossing his arms.

Hina laughed happily, still on a high from seeing one of her idols in the flesh.

"That is very commendable, Miss Hina! And from the speed in your sprinting, I would have to guess that you are also athletic in other ways! It's always best to train yourself in many ways, to help supplement your team!" Nidai said loudly, a large grin on his face.

"Yeah, definitely! I can't keep still—I just gotta keep moving and exercising more!" Hina said energetically, pumping her fists.

"Yes! We are all fueled by THE FLAMES OF YOOOOUTH!" Nidai said boastfully, his voice roaring like a lion.

"THE FLAMES OF YOOOOUTH!" Asahina repeated, spurred by Nidai's loudness.

"THE FLAMES OF YOOOOOUTH!"

"THE FLAMES OF YOOOOOUTH!"

After a bit more shouting, they both burst out laughing.

"So, Miss Hina…! What other physical activities are you into?" Nidai asked her curiously.

"Oh, well I was in 6 sports clubs in junior high!" Asahina told him, smiling an excited smile to hear his opinion.

"Six sport clubs?" Nidai asked, gawking slightly at her. Her grin brightened at his surprise, and got even wider when he praised her. "That is amazing! A TRUE SPORTSMAN! Or should I shay, sportsWOMAN!"

They both laughed at his super duper cool joke in-sync, then Nidai asked her, "So, tell me of your former clubs, Miss Hina!"

The short girl bounced on her feet again, then swayed from side to side. "Oh well, of **course** I was on the swim team. And you've seen me run—so you probably guessed I was on the track team. I did basketball too…"

She kept rambling, and Nidai nodded, impressed. They then got into a long conversation about the importance of constant physical activity.

They finally parted with a promise of working out together in the mornings, with another few physical Ultimate students. Hina promising to definitely get Sakura-chan to go as well, and get into the workouts.

They were certainly youthful spirits, and bursting with energy.


	9. Despairingly Hopeful Friendship

**AN**: I've lost control of my life. I've been writing Dangan Ronpa fics like crazy this past week. It's the reason why I delayed this chapter— because I already uploaded two 4k fics on my account.

Anyways, this chapter was fun to write. Like, Ultimate levels of fun. It's also a _songfic_ *sweats nervously* because I got a song stuck in my head this week, and I used it for this chapter. And listened to it on repeat while writing it. Whoops.

This is definitely the longest chapter posted on this fic, to date.

_Song used: Celebrity Status by Marianas Trench_. (It's more fitting for LeoSaya, but I don't care at this point. **It's a catchy song okay**)

_Around 3700 words (with lyrics). Around 3330 words (without lyrics)_

* * *

REQUESTED (by anonime)

Makoto Naegi x Junko Enoshima

(Junaegi, Naejunko, Junkoto, Naeshima, hopexdespair)

Despairingly Hopeful Friendship (and Celebrity Status)

(_School days/pre-Mutual Killing_)

* * *

It was Wednesday afternoon.

The seconds ticked down on the classroom's clock, before the final toll rang throughout the school.

Japanese History was **finally** over. And so was the school day. The class bustled and buzzed, happy that the long day had come to a close.

_Makoto Naegi_, however, had a delayed response. He'd fallen asleep ten minutes into the lecture, and was incredibly disoriented after being awoken by the shrill bell.

Makoto found Japanese History to be boring. He didn't mind World History, because at least it told of other countries' histories and stories. Japanese history was rich, but it was so…seemingly commonplace, that it bored the ahoge-haired boy.

It didn't help matters that he stayed up late last night to study for the Geometry test. Nor did it also help that Japanese History was the last class of the day, for this rotation.

Makoto had been bleary-eyed throughout most of the day, bar Lunch and English class. Those parts were always either interesting or loud enough that he would snap out of his fatigue-induced haze. He'd tried to snap out of it for the Geometry class that he'd studied for, but the fact that the test looked ten times harder than the study material didn't help his head at all.

So whilst his classmates were buzzing and packing around him, Makoto just rubbed at his eyes sleepily, and tried to blink away the grogginess. He then wiped the small trail of drool off his face, and tried to straighten out his bangs.

He sluggishly put his notebook and pencil back into his school bag, still seated, and noted that he at least closed his notebook before he took his sudden nap. The bad thing was that he had no notes for that class, now. He'd have to borrow them from someone.

He looked around the classroom. Surprisingly enough, most of his friends were either gone, or talking in pairs.

Ishimaru, punctual as always, was gone. He took good, thorough notes, taking school incredibly seriously. He would reprimand Makoto for his reason to borrow the notes, but would have been happy to assist a fellow classmate, and lend them to him.

Sayaka, Fujisaki, Kyoko, and Ikusaba also took good notes, and would have been happy to assist him—however, they were also absent from the class.

Odd.

Kyoko and Fujisaki usually left class promptly, unless they had someone talkative to hold them back. However, Ikusaba and Sayaka often stayed.

Ikusaba was usually seen with her sister, but she wasn't anywhere near the strawberry blonde. Sayaka would have chatted with him, or stayed in the room to chat with the other girls—mainly _Junko_.

It was still odd to refer to Enoshima-san as Junko, but she always insisted to be called by her first name. He only called close friends by their first name, so he reserved only thinking about her in her first name, instead of referring her by it aloud.

She had quite the Celebrity Status, so it would be just plain weird for someone like him to call her by her first name.

He noted that the last of his classmates had trickled out of the room while he tried to orient himself again, giving him passing goodbyes that he'd belatedly return.

(_Look around, round, look around, round, look around_)

The only one left was Junko. Junko, who was usually accompanied by at least one or two girls.

She was just sitting at her desk with a compact mirror in one hand, and a tube of lipstick in another. She made odd faces into the mirror, as if seeing how good the makeup was from all angles on her lips.

Makoto could only stare at her. For some reason, the sight was mesmerizing.

The pigtailed girl closed her compact with a '_snap!_' that made Makoto jump in his skin. She then grandly looked around the room, as if a queen, before her eyes squarely befell Makoto.

(_I look around, round, look around, and look it over_)

He felt himself gulp. He felt like a rabbit that was about to be devoured by a fox.

It wasn't a pleasant feeling.

Junko stowed her makeup away, and got up out of her seat, her trendy school bag slung over one shoulder. Her gaze never left Makoto, and his never left hers—both in fear of the consequences, and because he felt petrified in place.

She walked—flounced, stalked, sashayed—towards him confidentially, as if she was on a catwalk. The way she walked was powerful; it told a story.

The story being that _Junko Enoshima_ was the grandest of people, and she could easily kill anyone that **dared** get in her way.

"Sooooo, Makoto," Junko started, her voice like silk, once she was right next to his desk. He had to crane his neck from how much she towered over him whilst he was sitting at his desk. He was already short next to her standing; the size difference was worse when he was sitting down.

It also didn't help that she had a sizable bust, because the undersides of her breasts were pretty blatant in his vision.

(_I take it up, up, take it out, and take you nowhere,  
Trading in who I've been for shiny celebrity skin_)

"Er, y-yes?" he asked nervously, feeling like the shortest teenager ever (which he knew wasn't true. He'd seen sempai at this Academy that were **way** shorter than him).

"Whatcha doin', just sitting there at your desk?" she asked, her voice gaining a slightly harsher edge. "Still waking up from your little nappie?"

He laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. "Y-Yeah, a bit. The lecture was making me drowsy, so I kinda conked out," he said in a self-depreciative manner.

"Aw, that's **adorable**," she said with a more girlish voice. "Little negg all tuckered out from a boring history lesson."

"Errrr," Makoto mumbled, feeling very embarrassed and confused. He wasn't sure if she was making fun of him, or what. The girlish voice and pet name (negg? Where the hell did she even **get** that from? His last name?) didn't help matters.

"You didn't write down any notes, did you?" she said in a matter-of-fact voice. Her question didn't even sound like one—it sounded more like a statement.

"No, I didn't. I was going to ask some of the others, but I was kind of out of it," Makoto admitted, scratching at his cheek.

"Hm. Well, you coulda asked me, but I've got nothin'," she stated peppily, giving an odd-sounding laugh. Something like '_upupupu'_ or '_puhuhuhu'_.

"Ah. Well, thanks anyway, Enoshima-san," Makoto told her, now a bit on-edge. He stood up at his desk, ready to split—maybe he could catch up with Sayaka, and ask for her help.

It was always kind of terrifying to talk to Junko by himself—he didn't know why, but it **was**. There was just something about her that made him want to interact with her the least he could get away with, without seeming rude.

She didn't do anything wrong, from what he could tell, so he had no reason or **proof** to worry. But still, something always felt…Off, with her.

It could simply be the fact that they clashed too much. They seemed to be polar opposites—on the opposite sides of the spectrum. (Whatever spectrum **that** was, because he wasn't even sure about that fact.) They were just **different** from one another.

But before he could move—move **far** away from Junko Enoshima—a claw-like grip was on his shoulder. He suddenly felt ice fill his veins.

The moment of instinctual icy dread was gone, as Junko hooked her arm around his head, smooshing their bodies hip-to-hip. Now, Makoto only felt hot.

"Awww, c'mon, Makoto! I told you to call me Junko-chan!" Junko said loudly. "It's a **way** more fitting way to say my name."

(_I like to push it and push it until my luck is over)_

"Um, I just don't feel comfortable—" Makoto started meekly, before being interrupted by the blonde again.

"Do it," Junko warned darkly, as she shifted her grip on his head, and had him in an almost-headlock. The side of his face was smashed into the side of her right breast.

"O-Okay," Makoto said warily, his heartbeat racing, thoroughly threatened.

"Um…J…Junko-chan." He'd said her name slowly and hesitantly, feeling doubly uncomfortable with his face smashed on one of her boobs.

However, the name sounded…Oddly nice.

It was nice to say. He could understand why so many people talked and gossiped about her, if only to say her name.

"Good, good," Junko said, practically purring, an extremely pleased look on her face. Her grip on him loosened, and he quickly jerked his head away from her bust, face pink.

Junko Enoshima cooed down at the short boy. "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" she said sweetly.

Makoto Naegi shook his head slowly, his face becoming an even **more** adorable shade of pink. He seemed to take particular care not to move his head too far to the left, towards where it had been smashed in her bust before.

(_It never stop stops, never stops, well you better_)

"Really, Makoto, you **must** say my first name more," she started, her queenly persona seeping into her tone. She still had an arm around his neck, but brought her hand up to stroke through his hair— akin to a loving mother stroking a son's hair, comforting him after he finally did something he was hesitant to do before.

She felt his tension lessen slightly with the stroking of his hair, but he still looked rather hesitant. He looked up at her with doubtful, yet still bright, eyes.

"Um, it's just that…I only call close friends by their first names," the short boy said quietly, his voice honest.

Ah, yes. Makoto Naegi's name did fit him rather well. Honesty Saplingtree.

Honest to a fault. Small, yet supportive, like a sapling tree.

(_Think it over, prima donna, you don't want to sever,  
All the work to impress, charming girls out of their dresses_)

"But aren't **we** close friends, Makoto?" she asked, feeling her depressed persona come forth. "We're classmates, and we're already on a first-name basis…"

Junko's hand had stopped petting him—which had been super awkward, but kind of nice— and now she sounded depressed.

He didn't know how to handle **regular** Junko, much less a depressed Junko. Especially since **he** was the one that caused it.

"Um…I suppose so. If you want," Makoto said unsurely. "I didn't mean to say that we weren't friends or anything, er, J-Junko…chan."

She seemed to instantly brighten at that. She gave a loud "fuck yeah!", which took him aback—she only said that when she was incredibly excited, or agreed with something wholeheartedly.

"No take-backs, Makoto!" She told him voraciously. "Do that, and I'll rip ya to shreds with my nails!"

"I…don't doubt it," Makoto mumbled, a small shiver running down his spine.

She was at least back in good spirits…kind of.

One could never tell with her.

(_Smiling pretty, well, pretty will swallow you forever_)

"I have a question, though…," he told her, after a bit of deliberation over his actions.

"Hm? And that would be?" she asked analytically, looking down at him with cold, yet curious, eyes.

"Why me?" he blurted out, before backpedaling to explain himself. "I mean, I'm nothing special. I'm as plain as vanilla yogurt. I didn't even get into _Hope's Peak Academy_ with a talent. So then why…"

Junko blinked down at him, actually looking slightly taken aback. For a second, her face was completely blank—and Makoto could see the resemblance between her and her twin, clear as day.

Then another seemingly endless facet of Junko activated, and the blankness was gone.

_(Step one, step two, step three, repeat)_

"Oh, Makoto! Are you trying to get a love confession out of me?" she asked with rather fake-sounding flustered voice. A blush bloomed on her face, and a hand was under the side of her face.

"Er…" Makoto mumbled, confusion plastered across his face.

(_And I pray at the church of asses in the seats,  
I disappear behind the beat,  
Yeah_)

"Just kidding," Junko Enoshima laughed. The look on Makoto Naegi's face was **hilarious** to her. She hadn't used her embarrassed persona in a long time—and its use gave her amusing results.

"So, why you, to try to be close friends with?" she asked, letting him go to cross her arms casually. She was in one of her more contemplative personas, to fit the mood of the question.

(_When the mirrors, and the lights, and the smoke clear,  
I'd never guess how we ever could have got here_)

She couldn't really tell him the real reason. No, she had to use a carefully crafted lie that seemed like a truth.

(_You can say, what you say, when the lights go down_)

"Because you're the only guy who'd look, not leer, and treat me nice like you do everyone else," she stated.

That certainly came out of left field. Junko seemed serious. No more jokes, taunting, or flirting— just…the truth.

"But… I'm sure I'm not the only one who, er, leers," Makoto mumbles, still feeling confused at the one eighty of the conversation.

"No, but you're the nicest," she said, snorting scathingly. "Almost everyone else treats me negatively on principal—but you're always kind and optimistic to even the biggest assholes."

Makoto tried to say something, but Junko just kept rambling.

"**Seriously**, I've seen how you can even put up with **Togami** and **Fukawa**," she said, her hands open a foot from either side of her head, as she swayed left and right. "And everyone kind of trusts you, because of it, too."

"I, ah…I just think I'm optimistically kind," he said weakly, his mind spinning.

He never knew that she thought so highly of him, or that his entire class shared her opinion on the matter as well.

"There has to be more of a reason," she says suddenly, a dark, intense look on her face.

"Wha—" Makoto asked, a bit flabbergasted.

(_So shake, shake, shake,  
And shut your mouth_)

"There **has** to be a reason why you treat me so well, Makoto. What facet of me spurs you to interact so well with me?" she asked, her voice low and chillingly dark. One hand had come up to cover a part of her face, whilst the other hugged her waist.

He had to think of an answer that would satisfy her.

(_I wonder why, why, I wonder why, why I,  
Let you wreck, resurrect, whatever you wanna_)

Her body? No, she just said she hated guys who leered at her body.

Her actions? No, that could be seen as rude. Her actions were grand and loud, and many called her a huge gossip and problem-stirrer and such, because of them.

Her clothes (or lack thereof)? That would go over just a bit better, because of her being a Fashionista. However, it still sounded creepy.

Her personality?

…Actually, that sounded like the right thing to say. No matter how much she overwhelmed him and made him edgy, she was still interesting. She had a presence that was hard to ignore. (Something even far more than Celebrity Status.)

"So, what is it, Makoto?" she asked in her grand, highness voice, fists on her hips. "Choice A? …B? …C? …D?"

He wasn't sure why she was referring to there being choices, as if in a game— but he answered her promptly, nonetheless.

(_I can't depend, in the end_)

"I think…It's because of your personality," Makoto answered, feeling rather confident with his answer.

"Huh?" Junko asked, her face darkening in surprise. The expression looked blank, surprised, despairing—as if she'd just heard something so sudden and unthinkable that she just… shut down.

"I do well with talking with you, and stuff, because your personality is interesting," Makoto went on. "There's… just so many parts of you. A lot of different faces of Junko Enoshima."

She blinked, her face clearing from its darkness. It still looked blank—painfully neutral. But it seemed like she was thinking through his words, so he went on.

"You're not like most people, that way…It's…unique. Different," he went on, struggling to explain Junko's personality. "Your personality is just really unique. It, um, gets a lot of emotion and reactions, no matter what you do."

"So…It's my…Personality?" she asked blankly.

"Yeah," Makoto nodded surely. "And how I hope to understand it better."

A cold look came in her eyes when he mentioned hope—but it was so fleeting that he felt like it was a trick of the light.

(_You know, I thought you were my friend_)

But in this blank state, she really did look like Ikusaba. She just had a rosier complexion, a bigger bust, and rounder, bluer eyes.

Suddenly, Junko Enoshima burst into laughter.

It was the only thing she could do, really, in response to the stupid honesty of the ahoge-boy.

(_Just stop, just stop, just stop, I think I got it_)

She laughed and laughed until tears came down her face in streams, not even caring if her makeup got smeared.

If it did—which it mostly likely was—then that would make this all the more despair-inducing.

Such a stupidly optimistic boy.

Such a stupidly, optimistically, honest reason.

It was so stereotypical that it just made her laugh and despair harder.

Makoto just stared at Junko, who was doubled-over, laughing. He felt himself blush.

Was what he said **really** that stupid? That corny? That surprising?

(_Sorry you, sorry me, sorry every in-between_)

Junko's tears washed away her makeup, as if making her a blank slate once again. Her eyeliner (that's what the stuff the girls made to make their eyes look darker, right?) started to smear, creating dark rivers down the sides of her eyes. Wherever her tears would pass, it would wash off makeup, making the trails of tears look pale compared to the rest of her face.

(_Sorry, everybody here, will never be somebody clean_)

The only part that seemed untouched was her eye shadow, as it was above her eyes. But even then, when Junko tried to wipe away the tears of mirth, the color on her eyelids would wipe away as well.

The model finally straightened up, her tears almost gone.

She wiped a final one away from the edge of her eye, and then told Makoto, "I can see why so many people like you, Makoto. No wonder Muku-chan keeps wanting to be with you."

Makoto just gave a dumbfounded blink whilst he tried to puzzle out what she said.

(_There's a piece of me they're throwing back at us_)

"Don't tell any other mortals of our conversation, nor of my makeup smearing so spectacularly," Junko told him, voice deep and commanding. Makoto nodded dumbly.

"Good. You really are adorably vanilla," she said, grinning, as she ruffled his hair. He gave a whine, and tried to pat his hair back down; his ahoge somehow survived the assault. "Such a little herbivore man."

Junko Enoshima then left the short boy, sashaying away whilst she got out a makeup wipe from her makeup pack.

(_And they will buy you, and sell you, for Celebrity Status_)

She was wiping her face, just about to cross the threshold of the door, before Makoto Naegi's voice stopped her.

"Um, Junko-chan?" he asked, still sounding awkward with using the super-cute version of her name.

"Hmmmm?" she asked, turning her head a bit to look at him, while she wiped the left edge of her face.

"You have a friend in me, you know," he told her, grinning at her brightly with such a large amount of disgusting **hope** that her stomach twisted, and her despairing breath caught in her throat.

(_Step one, step two, step three, repeat_)

Makoto watched as Junko's expression turned completely blank. He knew that he broke through, and got the **true** Junko's attention. The one without a persona, who was neutral.

Her true face.

(_And I pray at the church of asses in the seats,  
I disappear behind the beat,  
Yeah_)

Then a breathtakingly mesmerizing look came into her eyes, that made his stomach twist painfully and his heart thud too hard in his chest. It was the most chilling look he'd ever seen in her eyes, during their time as classmates and friends.

(_When the mirrors, and the lights, and the smoke clear,  
I'd never guess how we ever could have got here_)

It looked almost like…a look full of **despair**.

"I know," she said simply, her face still her true one.

_(You can say, what you say, when the lights go down_)

She turned around again, and Makoto watched as the true Junko Enoshima truly left the classroom.

Once out of her smothering presence, Makoto felt like he could properly breathe.

He took a large breath, held it, and then exhaled it slowly.

(_So shake, shake, shake,  
And shut your mouth_)

He could see why everything seemed to revolve around her. She had many faces, many layers—and beneath it all, an intensity that made one dread it, yet want to cling to it.

(_When the mirrors, and the lights, and the smoke clear,  
I'd never guess how we ever could have got here,_

_You can say, what you say, when the lights go down,_

_So shake, shake, shake,  
And shut your mouth_)

But he still felt hope that she wouldn't have to be so…empty. He saw her true face—the beautiful void it was.

He still felt hope, that the chilling look in her eyes wasn't one of despair.

Maybe…Maybe he could help her, so that one day, she can be truly happy.

So that she wouldn't just be Celebrity Status and masks any longer.

(_Sorry you, sorry me, sorry every in between,_

_Sorry, everybody here, will never be somebody clean,_

_There's a piece of me they're throwing back at us,_

_And they will buy you, and sell you, for _

_Celebrity Status)_


	10. Sniffles and Swishies

**AN**: These chapters are progressively becoming longer, and at the same time, it's progressively taking longer for me to update this fic. However, I will persevere!

My friend wrote a sondam fic where Gundam's hamsters get sick— which doesn't have a happy ending at ALL. But I took the basic idea and turned it into something fluffy. I even researched hamsters getting sick, and their treatments, so Gundam's dialogue and care would seem more legit.

* * *

REQUESTED (by Mad-Wizard-in-221b)

Sonia Nevermind x Gundam Tanaka

(soniagundam, sondam, mechaprincess)

Sniffles and Swishies

(Mutual Killing)

* * *

_Sonia Nevermind_ was ever so intrigued by one _Gundam Tanaka_.

Why, cute little hamsters reside in his muffler! If that was not intriguing, then Sonia did not know **what** was!

However, the hamsters were not the **only** quality that Sonia Nevermind admired about Gundam Tanaka.

Why, the very moment she laid eyes on the tall boy, her interest was piqued. He had this…aura, look, stance—all full of intensity that simply made it hard for the Princess to **not** think of him.

Others may not think so favorably of the _Ultimate Breeder_ as she did, especially at first glance at the boy. However, Gundam's uniqueness—in his image, voice, thoughts, feelings, and the way he held himself—was something that fascinated her to no end.

If she were to make a list of all the qualities that made her interested in Gundam Tanaka, Sonia believed that the list would be lengthier than _Novoselic's_ laws. The list would be so vast, that not even her knowledge of thirty languages could help compile it, nor fully be able to explain the minute or grand details.

Sonia's attachment to Tanaka-san—and to the rest of her fellow classmates—could be accounted for the fact that she has led an extremely sheltered life, thus far. That would be a reason that most would use to explain the way of why Sonia attached herself so much to Tanaka-san.

However, there was simply…More.

There was much, much more to it.

…Suffice to say, Sonia Nevermind readily liked Gundam Tanaka, and considered them to be close to one another. Whenever the opportunity presented itself—when she had a seemingly large block of time to spend with others—she often went out of her way to spend time with Tanaka-san in private.

Which led to her current expedition, at this very moment in time.

For you see, Sonia—despite thinking herself close to the boy—never readily knew **where** he was, at one time or another. Tanaka-san liked to keep to himself, but would sometimes leave the confines of his cabin to be in other places, like the farm on the island, or the general store.

She supposes that she can simply look up his location on her ElectroID—as, curiously enough, each seemed to have a GPS to find any fellow Ultimate student at any point—but that just seemed…cheap. It took the meaning away, of trying to find Tanaka-san, to spend time with him,

Today, she had also seen Tanaka-san less than usual. He seemed…irate? Irritable? Irrational?

Whatever the case, it worried Sonia. She had asked him, when she'd crossed paths with him, if there was something wrong. However, he affirmed that he himself was fine, for he was Gundam Tanaka, and that mortal trivialities were of no consequence to him.

So she was determined to get to the bottom of this! She would not allow Tanaka-san to start feeling irritable, especially in the situation they were all thrust in, because of that dastardly Monokuma!

With a resolute nod to herself, Sonia once again went on her way to find one elusive male specimen named Tanaka-san.

After looking through most of the main island—and receiving many greetings from her friends, as well as a request to help her find whatever she was looking for by Souda-san—Sonia felt a bit miffed.

However, she did not lose hope! After all, she had not checked the cabins—which she'd overlooked, and in hindsight, **might** have been a better place to start looking.

Oh well. She liked walking around the island, anyhow. Despite the lurking thought in the back of her mind that reminded her of the distinct possibility of one of her friends murdering her whilst she was alone, she **enjoyed** her strolls around the tropical paradise. Barring the fact of how odd it truly sounded.

Once at Tanaka-san's door, Sonia took a breath to steady herself. Then, she brought up her hand, and knocked.

The _Ultimate Princess_ stood in silence in front of the door, hands folded in front of her, waiting patiently. After a full minute of no response, the corners of her mouth started to tug downwards.

Another minute went by, and Sonia was considering the fact of Tanaka-san not residing in his cabin, before the heavy door opened slightly.

"Ah, it is you, Miss," Tanaka-san answered, after pulling down a surgical mask that had previously covered his mouth.

Sonia furrowed her brow at the sight. The implications of him wearing a surgical mask were not healthy.

"Are you…sick, Tanaka-san?" Sonia asked hesitantly. She twitched when Gundam gave a booming laugh.

"Fuahahaha! Gundam Tanaka does not get 'sick'!" Tanaka-san exclaimed. "Such mortal ailments are beneath the Ascended Ruler of Ice."

Well, that was promising.

"Then why, pray tell, do you have a surgical mask on your face, Tanaka-san?" Sonia asked quizzically. "Is it for one of your hella-cool magic ceremonies?"

At the thought of seeing him perform spectacular feats of magic—a reaction that most mortals should hold, Gundam righteously believed—the Princess's facial expressions brightened. Stars seemed to shine in her eyes, and her dainty hands joined together, almost nearing that of prayer.

He was flattered.

He raised his scarf up to cover part of his heated face, looking away from the girl in front of him. He noted that the wood grain pattern upon his doorframe was very interesting indeed.

"No…I am afraid not, Miss," he mumbled into his scarf, feeling his usual boisterousness leave his being. "It is for another task—one not dealing with the magical or dark arts."

"Oh? Then what is it for?" she asked curiously, her head tilted quizzically. It reminded him very much of his Dark Gods, actually—in those times whenever he made a query, and they did not understand.

The thought of his precious Dark Gods sent a small pinprick of worry within his chest.

They were the reason he was wearing this atrocious plastic mask, after all.

"It…I believe it will be easier to show you, Miss Sonia," Gundam told her, looking down at the shorter blonde.

He had tried to control his voice, however, it seemed as some of his worry was injected into his words or posture. The Princess looked up at him, her expression concerned.

Before he could become rooted to the spot, or let the blonde girl ask more questions, he spun on his boot-clad feet to further envelop himself in his abode. It would not do to lose himself in her eyes—those which were like that of precious crystals—and forget about his current predicament.

He heard the door close, which he presumed was Miss Sonia closing it politely. Soon, he felt her presence nearing him, the sound of her steps coming closer.

Sonia walked into the room cautiously. This was unlike Tanaka-san, and it made her slightly uneasy. As she neared, she saw that he was crouched down.

It looked like something was in his hands. Slowly, she bent down, looking over his shoulder.

"You see…One of the Dark Gods has gotten sick," Tanaka-san murmured. "I have been busy with caring for him, as well as accommodating my other Dark Gods with another space to call their home, temporarily."

The small form of a hamster was cradled carefully in his hands. The hamster had light-brown fur, with a crème-colored belly, as well as sporting a tear in one of its ears.

Sonia looked around the room—and found the other three hamsters inside a cage, in the opposite corner of the room.

"I see…That is why you are wearing that surgical mask," Sonia said softly, as she turned back to watch Tanaka-san's careful movements with the small rodent.

In these moments, it truly hit Sonia how much Tanaka-san cared for his pets.

"…Yes. I had to separate Maga-G from the others," he said, as he rubbed the hamster's fur with a dry, thick-looking cloth. "For you see, disease can spread rapidly, especially amongst rodents. It could even affect the owner, if it is particularly strong."

"The disease can spread to the environment, as well. The Dark God's previous abode of their resting cage in my room is now dangerous—I have to disinfect it," Tanaka-san went on, as he then fed the hamster small pieces of bread dipped in an odd-smelling liquid. "I have had to garner a replacement cage for them to dwell in, temporarily."

"Their main cage, as well as the items inside—including the water supplementary contraption, the wheel, the food dish, and the bedding—must be cleaned and sanitary, or completely replaced," he went on.

He was in his element, despite how serious the issue was. Gundam Tanaka, after all, was not admitted into _Hope's Peak Academy_ for nothing. He knew various ways to care for animals of all types; it would be utterly embarrassing if he did not know how to care for his most precious of companions, his Dark Gods.

The room was silent, barring Maga-G's sniffles, and the other Dark Gods' chatterings.

"But…Tanaka-san…Don't your Dark Gods reside often times inside your muffler?" Sonia asked, intrigued at the lesson she was receiving for rodent pet care from the usually brusque boy.

"Ah…Yes," Tanaka-san admitted slowly, pausing in brushing Maga-G's fur with a very tiny, fuzzy brush. "I will have to…Wash it, as well."

He looked uncomfortable at the mention of his scarf parting his body, and Sonia had to place a hand on her mouth to muffle her giggles. That scarf was almost attached to the boy—it never seemed to leave him. Why, even when he was in a swimsuit, he kept the scarf on.

It was another thing that made him so attractive.

Gundam felt his face flush once more at the sound of Miss Sonia's muffled giggles. He must have sounded as uncomfortable as he felt, when he voiced aloud the possibility that he had not wanted to consider properly before.

That he had to take off his scarf.

For a few **hours**, even, until it was properly laundered, and clean once more.

He had honestly put that at the back of his mind, hoping that it would not come up yet. His scarf was very precious to him, if only because it was where his Dark Gods resided.

"Ah, Tanaka-san…I was wondering, with your lesson of hamster care when they are ailed…" Sonia paused, hoping that her question would not be offensive in any way to Tanaka-san. "What disease does Mister Maga-G have?"

She was honestly hoping that it was not something serious. However, how would **she** know? She knew nothing of hamsters, much less illnesses that ailed them.

"He has," Gundam started, pausing dramatically. Miss Sonia seemed to be waiting his answer with baited breath. The disease itself was a nuisance to anyone who cared for pets, much less very small mammals, who's conditions were much more fragile and precarious than other cases.

"The **sniffles**," he stated darkly.

There was silence for a full ten seconds, before Miss Sonia reacted.

"The…_snifferus_?" Miss Sonia asked with a strained voice.

At first, Gundam believed that he had impressed, awed, or scared her with what he proclaimed.

After all, she was a foreigner. Perhaps the way he had said the condition so darkly made an impact on her, and she thought that the ridiculous baby name he used for his Dark God's condition was nothing to be trifled with.

But then he shot a look behind his shoulder, back at her, and saw that that was **certainly** not the case.

The blonde girl was making odd noises, and her face was contorted. She had an odd smile that wavered and twitched.

Sonia was trying her best not to laugh, she really was. But after Tanaka-san looked directly at her with that look on his face—one that tried to appear grand and dramatic, over what he'd spoken—she couldn't help herself.

It started with muffled noises, but then quickly evolved into giggles, and then finally laughter.

"The **_sniffles_**," she wheezed, whilst clutching her stomach. Saying the completely ridiculous term once more made her go back into peals of laughter.

Gundam, meanwhile, was beet-red.

Dear lord, he made himself sound like a total dork and **loser** with what he'd said.

"_Really, Tanaka? The __**sniffles**_?" he berated himself in his mind. "**_That_**_ was the best term you could think of, in lieu of simply saying that Maga-G had the common cold?_"

It was something that wasn't embarrassing when he used it on his Dark Gods. After all— when he checked on Maga-G, and seen that the little guy had the symptoms of a cold— he didn't think twice when he said it to the hamster.

"_Oh, Maga-G—do you have the sniffles_?" he had cooed at the tiny ball of fur in his hands, just this morning. The little hamster had a runny nose, and had been sneezing and sniffling. So naturally, Gundam had called it 'the sniffles', which was a habit from when he was younger.

Sonia tried her best to keep herself under control. After a bit, only a giggle or two would escape her lips.

"So, ah" _giggle_ "Tanaka-san…" _giggle giggle_ "What are the symptoms of—" she went into a small peal of giggles, which she quickly tried to restrain, "this disease?"

Tanaka-san was red as a fire engine, and had his scarf hiked up so only his eyes would peak through. Sonia felt guilty that she had made him uncomfortable, but it was just so odd—oddly **adorable**, and humorous—to have heard him say such an endearingly **cute** term.

Her inquiry had him back in his element, and the color lowered, until only a rosy tint to his face remained.

"Yes, the symptoms…" Tanaka-san started, awkwardly clearing his throat.

"Runny nose, irritability, watery eyes, sneezing, sniffling," here he paused, giving an embarrassed cough into his hand, then continued. "Lack of activity and fatigue, from the rodent, as well as matted or un-groomed fur."

"So essentially…A cool?" Miss Sonia asked, fumbling with the term.

"A cold," Gundam corrected automatically. "And yes—however, the common cold can be very dangerous for small mammals, especially left unchecked."

"Does it?" Miss Sonia asked curiously, her brow furrowing. "I have had colds before, but the Novoselic Castle's private doctors have always rushed to cure me of them. I have never had a cold that has gone unchecked."

Yes, he could image that. A Princess is a very important person for a country—especially if that Princess is young, sheltered, and adored by all.

"Yes. There is no definite cure for the common cold, after all—simply different ways to tame it," Gundam explained. "And if left unchecked for long enough, a cold can develop into pneumonia, or even bronchitis. That applies to **all** mammals, but especially to a small a species as the rodent."

"I see. So you are taking every precaution necessary to ensure that Maga-G will get well," Miss Sonia noted, looking thoughtful.

"Of course. I am Gundam Tanaka—Ascended Ruler of Ice, and Ultimate Breeder, after all," Gundam stated, his confidence and bravado finally coming back full stop into his body.

Miss Sonia would somehow manage to make him feel flustered, awkward, or oddly helpless. More often than not, he felt the words stop flowing, or his power and confidence leaving him, or any number of odd things happening to him.

It was good to have his confidence back—flowing strongly through his veins. If only for a short time, whilst still in the Princesses' presence.

"Yes…If I may ask, Tanaka-san…" she started once more, "Why…_Sniffles_?"

He felt his confidence flow back out of his veins. The time it was with him was very short, as expected.

"Erm…" he mumbled, trying to throw together an explanation. He looked intently down at the bundle of fur in his hands, to try to hide his pinkening face, and to not look at her when he admitted his reason. "My mother would use the term, w-when I was young. It…stuck."

He felt his face heat up more as he heard Miss Sonia's melodic giggle. The sound was pleasant, but also caused his stomach to knot and do multiple back flips, as if it was an enthusiastic canine doing tricks for its owner.

"That's very…nice," Sonia said lamely. She, once more, tried to mask her giggles behind her dainty hand.

She had wanted to say _cute_—and many other synonyms of it—but she felt that it would traumatize the poor boy more. It wouldn't do if Tanaka-san avoided her in mortification, if she pulled that stunt.

But—Suddenly, at that moment, she had a brilliant idea! One that would help abate the awkwardness of the babying term that Tanaka-san had used earlier.

She should recount an embarrassing term and story of back home!

"My own mother would say something embarrassing as well. A term that I also use, even to this day," Sonia started. She saw the breeder perk up, and he shot a side-glance at her, his face still pink.

"And that may be…?" he asked curiously, and Sonia mentally cheered with the apparent success of her plan.

"It is a certain style of dress that I wear," she explained. "It has many thin layers of fabric and tull. That particular style of dress is what I call…a _swishy_."

Tanaka-san simply blinked at her. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Then he began chuckling.

"A…_suwishy_?" he asked, voice rumbling from his laughter.

"Yes. When I was very young, my mother would co-erce me to wear those types of dresses, by calling them _swishies_. I would not like to, because they felt very itchy."

"_Swishies_?" he asked once more, half-laughing. He seemed to be restraining himself from laughing more at her, so she considered the exchange of embarrassing trivialities from their childhood a success.

She noted that his laughter wasn't like his usual, over-the-top booming laughter.

No, Tanaka-san's laughter was not a booming '_Fuahahaha_!'. Rather, it seemed more…genuine. More natural.

Sonia liked this rare laughter of Tanaka-san's **very** much.

"Yes. And despite how babying the term is, I still use it," Sonia stated, smiling brightly at the breeder.

"I see," he noted, chuckling softly. "Then that term is a fine one indeed—one as grand as the poetic words of Shakespeare himself."

She found that particularly ironic, as Shakespeare had actually created many words in his works. She had to hide an ironic grin, at the fitting metaphor that Tanaka-san used.

"And yours is one as strong and wonderful as the words of the Romans," Sonia said, nodding her head with finality. Romans fit him—and nothing less would suffice.

Gundam chuckled once more. The Princess really did have a way with words. She always made something seem concrete and one hundred percent true.

"Miss Sonia, would you like to help me in my endeavor to uphold my Dark God's peak health?" he asked her, feeling like he could trust her with something of this caliber.

After all, it's possible that she could combat the mighty sniffles with her swishies.

The blonde gave such a kind, heartwarming smile, that he felt his heart skip a beat.

"I would love to help you and your Dark Gods, Tanaka-san," she stated, the sincerity clear in her voice.

In his hands, Maga-G gave one of his sniffles. In his chest, he felt his heart give a swishy.


End file.
